


An Ode to Memories

by keirajo



Series: Random Transformers Works (multiple generations, etc.) [9]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Friendship, Memories, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: After some centuries on the Exitus and Rodimus trying to deal with the pain and loss inside of him--maybe Thunderclash is finally going to get him to a breakthrough...………?





	An Ode to Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have any intention to write another story in this "bad ending universe" stuff, but...…….I kind of like my happy endings. So, Rodimus finally starts on a path to deal with his pain and loss--and to become friends with Drift.

** _ An Ode to Memories _ **

Thunderclash watched Rodimus quietly from his corner of the room, as the administration staff meeting ran on. His dutiful second-in-command was being efficient and serious about the budget report and incident reports of recent months. The flame-colored mech had hardened even more since he came back from Ratchet’s memorial service. It made the old Autobot hero wonder if it really had been a bad decision in the end to tell Rodimus to go to the service.

Rodimus had complained once that the _Exitus _was exactly like the _Lost Light_ sometimes and somehow he’d become **_Ultra Magnus_**. So even though the flame-colored mech _knew_ he’d changed—that he’d hardened from his loss and sadness—but he continued on such a depressing and stern path. The irony was that Ultra Magnus would’ve wished that Rodimus had been like this when the _Lost Light_ had launched, because then he may not have tried the thing he had with Tyrest. Because he’d wanted Tyrest to punish Rodimus for being so emotional and chaotic.

Thunderclash wished he could get at least a little bit of the old Rodimus to come back. It wasn’t that this emotionally suppressed Rodimus was bad or anything, it was just a little sad to watch the younger mech go through the rest of his life in this darkened state. Though at least he had found a hobby that suited him—_his paintings_. Minerva said that Rodimus had a lot of artistic talent and his paintings were deeply emotional. Which meant the paintings were where his outlet had gone to—he refused to talk about the pain and memories buried inside of him, but he apparently poured it into his artwork.

“Thank you, Rodimus—I appreciate the detail and diligence in your crew welfare report,” Thunderclash said as soon as Rodimus had stopped speaking and moved to sit down. “I got a request from New Cybertron to return there for a short time, because they have a research request they would like us to undertake. So, we’ll be changing course this evening to head back to New Cybertron and there will be three warp hops scheduled for the overnight hours of two, four and eight.”

“How long will we be on New Cybertron for?” Minerva asked, curiously.

“_Fifty hours_,” Thunderclash responded. “The Science Institute needs to take the time to explain the details of the mission to our science officers and myself. Everyone else will be allowed to have shore leave in the meantime, _but be certain to report back before we launch back out_.” Thunderclash stood and looked around at the nine administration staff members. “Alchemor, gather your staff for our debriefing on New Cybertron and have them meet me in the bay at nine, which is when we should land in New Iacon. Rodimus, remain behind so I can debrief you for shore leave rules and regulations. Everyone else, you are dismissed.”

The other eight of the administrative staff left, Minerva gave Rodimus a light pat on the arm as she walked past him. He gave her a light smile and stacked his four report datapads. Once Rodimus and Thunderclash were alone the flame-colored mech stood up and stretched.

“Please tell me you _aren’t_ making me remain behind to flirt, because I’m not having it,” the flame-colored mech said, dryly, glaring at the captain of the _Exitus_.

“Not today,” Thunderclash chuckled softly. “**_Rodimus_**. Why don’t you go see Drift? Or if not him, maybe Minimus Ambus?”

“_Gah_, **_really_**? I think I’d rather stay with the ship, you already forced me to go back there for Ratchet’s memorial service,” Rodimus groaned. The flame-colored mech plopped down in the chair and tapped digits of his right servo on the table. “Look, you can keep trying to get me to break open and weep or whatever, but I’m _tired of this life_, Thunderclash. I really am. All I have left that really is keeping me alive is my pain and memories.”

“You don’t have to give up your friends, Rodimus—I’ve _never_ wanted you to do that,” the older Autobot said with a deep sigh.

“_Friends_? Oh, Primus—now when did I ever have any of **_those_**? I think I had one once, by the name of Drift………….but you know, he lied to me the whole time. I had one named Ultra Magnus, too—and he decided it would be better off if I were punished by his big bad boss,” Rodimus growled, shooting to his pedes. “You know what? Just about every single mech or femme I thought I could label as a _‘friend’_ did something stupid to stab me in the Spark or whatever. Honestly, I’m done with them. _Done with them all_.”

“Rodimus, I know you don’t really feel like that, so I wish you’d stop coming down so hard on yourself like this,” Thunderclash said, calmly, standing up and walking over to the flame-colored mech. He reached out to lightly rub the younger mech’s helm, but that made Rodimus go into his withdrawal mode instantly, as he jumped back and away from his captain’s fond touch.

Rodimus looked angry and like he might attack Thunderclash, but his EM field (that he was desperately trying to hold tightly to him) was dripping with sadness and ache and longing for _something_—probably for **_someone_**, really.

“Then let’s talk about the one you never gave any labels at all, shall we?” Thunderclash said, firmly, making sure he was blocking the door, in case the flame-colored mech might try to run for it.

_That was it_. Rodimus knew _exactly_ who Thunderclash meant before any name was particularly mentioned. The expression on his face showed despair, right before he went absolutely cold and still. Even his EM field went completely dead at that moment.

“Yes, let’s talk about the one who stole your Spark and took it with him to his death,” Thunderclash said sharply, making sure he kept Rodimus’ focus kept completely on him.

_That really **was** it_.

Rodimus launched himself at Thunderclash, his servo drawn back into a fist. The fight was very short, however, because the old Autobot hero had both bulk and strength over the flame-colored mech. A fist was caught in one servo, while the wrist of the other arm was grabbed and Rodimus was spun and wrestled against the wall.

“Well, now…………this is how I’d _love_ to have you, but I’d rather it be _willingly_,” Thunderclash chuckled softly. “_Calm down_. Look, I **_do_** have a degree in psychiatry, so I’d really like to see you break through this pain. And I think it’s time you talked about you and Megatron.”

“_No_,” Rodimus whispered, the word filled with static and pain. “_I refuse! Let go of me! Let go of me you—**you rapist**!_” He snapped, angrily.

“Seriously, _that’s_ what you’re going to call me?” Thunderclash laughed. “A rapist is someone who actually _does the deed_—and I prefer to have my lovers come to my berth willingly. So, settle down, Rodimus—and then I’ll let go of you.” Rodimus went still and his wildly flaring field settled down completely. “_Good. **Megatron**_. When did the two of you get together and why did you keep it a secret? Was that why you were so angry with him remaining in the Functionist Universe?”

Rodimus slumped against the wall, his field rippling with sadness and deep longing. “There _wasn’t_ anything. There really wasn’t. But……………in the cell _that day_. When he showed me the Rodimus Star—_that he still had!_—I wished………..for a moment I _really wished_……………that my luck wasn’t so abysmally horrible,” the flame-colored mech whispered. “But, you know………._that’s my life_. It’s always been my life. _Since Nyon_………” he sighed, sinking to the floor, his back scraping yellow paint from his spoiler down it as he moved.

Thunderclash knelt, reaching a servo out to gently rub Rodimus’ helm. “_There_. Isn’t it better to _finally _talk about it?” He murmured, fondness deep in his voice.

“_It hurts_,” Rodimus mumbled, burying his face in his arms.

“It **_does_**. But sometimes things need to break before they can be mended,” the old Autobot warrior said softly, still rubbing Rodimus’ helm. “You _needed_ to break through this—and _this_ is good progress. I think you should go see Drift. _See your friend_. Because you _want_ him to be your friend—despite the pain and awkwardness between you two.”

“It’s just going to be _awful_. He’s going to accuse me of drinking or being stupid, he just……….._he couldn’t………..**it’s not fair**_,” Rodimus sobbed, grinding his forehead against the piping on his arms.

“Then _be presentable_ when you meet with him. Be my confident and serious second-in-command,” Thunderclash said, grinning at Rodimus warmly.

“How can I be confident when you just broke me to bitty-bits?” Rodimus grunted, glaring at Thunderclash.

“Because _all of that_ is the foundation of _everything you can be_,” Thunderclash chuckled, rising to his pedes and reaching down to pull his second-in-command up to his pedes. “You can be stronger and better, I promise you. But, we should keep talking about your problems over time……….._that’s_ how you’ll become better.”

“**_Aft_**. You’re just trying to be all nicey-nice to seduce me into berth,” Rodimus said, a wry little smile curving his lips as he reached up and flicked a finger against his captain’s forehead. But, deep inside—the flame-colored mech realized he hadn’t been quite so………._relatively happy_ in quite some time.

Maybe being here on the _Exitus_ wouldn’t be such a bad life and a bad future for him after all.

* * * * *

“Rodimus, I am so glad you called me when you got here,” Drift said, happily. He slid into the booth and tried to scoot closer to the flame-colored mech, who politely held up a servo to silently tell the swordsmech to stop where he was.

“My captain prefers that I _try_ to keep the friends I had. Me, I don’t care much about that,” Rodimus said with a shrug. “But, you know, _I liked Ratchet_. He was a cranky old cuss and he made me laugh,” the flame-colored mech chuckled. “_And_……….I really **_did_** think we were friends, Drift, but you _never_ told me about you and Ratchet. You kept it a secret from me and I don’t even know _why_.”

“_Oh_,” Drift murmured, admonished by the statement. He ordered a light Engex from Swerve, who wandered by to say “_hi_” to them both. Then he looked over and saw that Rodimus only had a bottled water. “It wasn’t like I was doing it on purpose, we were already bonded so I guess it never occurred to me to actually say anything to anyone. I guess I just didn’t think about it,” he sighed, softly.

“_Gah_. So, basically your syk-addled brain circuits were too fried to actually act like a _normal mech_ about things,” Rodimus grunted. “So, really—you were always on my case about drinking too much and you’re already a mess from your years of circuit-speeders.”

“Is this _really_ how things are going to go between us from now on? We can’t go back to being friends?” Drift sighed, taking the Engex from Swerve and taking a good long drink.

“I think our friendship needs to evolve into something a lot more honest,” Rodimus said, softly, smiling as he looked at his bottle of water. “I know I’ve been on a kind of hate-and-despise path while on the _Exitus_, but Thunderclash has tried for a long time to make things better for me. Minerva’s been really kind to me. And, you know—essentially being Ultra Magnus on that ship hasn’t been so bad. I get a lot of respect from the crew—and, yeah, they _kinda_ fear me a bit. _But that’s okay_. Actually, I think I might like it on the _Exitus_. And maybe I don’t need to have everyone’s optics on me all the time.”

“Rodimus, that’s…………._impressive_! I’m really proud of you!” Drift gasped, smiling and reaching a servo over to pat the flame-colored mech’s arm fondly.

“The old me would’ve gushed and glomped onto your praise, because……………..you know I **_liked_** you, Drift,” Rodimus chuckled. But his mind drifted and he thought of Megatron. “But we’re not good together, like **_that_**—I totally see that now. I know who I _really_ needed to have, but time wasn’t on our side.”

“Were you…………_you and Megatron_………?” Drift trailed off, puzzled at where Rodimus’ unspoken words were leading.

“It would’ve been something if we were,” Rodimus laughed, thinking back to that kiss in the cell before the execution. “_Wow_. I think ol’ Megs would’ve been something in the berth, too. If loss is to be my chain—then I hope it links to something good someday. I need to _wait_ for it to happen.”

Nyon. Working with a team to find the Magnificence. Death, Megatron and the Matrix. The losses on the _Lost Light_. Skids’ sacrifice. Megatron’s execution. Each strange and violent loss, a new link in the chain. Longer and longer on into the future. 

But every chain had an anchor. And that anchor was somewhere waiting for him in _that future_. The anchor could be his death, but now Rodimus hoped it led to someone who could truly change his life—who could bring light into the depths of his darkness finally.

“Let’s try writing to each other sometimes. Just try talking about our normal, oh-so-normal lives,” Rodimus chuckled warmly. “Because, you know, _that’s_ what friends do. They talk about their boring lives. They laugh about them, they cry about them…………gripe and whine and gush about things and people and places. And from there, let’s see if we can _really_ be friends, Drift—what do you say?” He asked, looking over at the white-and-grey mech with a grin.

Drift gave a soft laugh. “You know what? I’ve never done the _‘normal’_ things like that before. It sounds like it might be enjoyable,” the swordsmech said, smiling back at the flame-colored mech.

Rodimus held up his water bottle towards Drift. Drift grinned and lifted his glass of Engex to tap it against the water bottle. They smiled at each other and took a good long drink of each of their chosen drinks.

**_Friends_**. That’s what they could truly become now.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly getting used to my new laptop. I've had it for a few days. The keyboard is...……..more to-the-left-side than my old one, because this one has a numberpad on it. I keep hitting ":" rather than "L" so much...…….!!!! XD
> 
> Good news, though...…….I took my old laptop to a computer repair place and they can save what's on my hard drive. So, now it's me waiting for them to save my hard drive and put it onto a 1TB external for me. Then I can get back the two stories I was working on and finish them up. I'm soooooooooooo glad I don't need to rewrite them both, I'd had such good stuff written on them already. :D
> 
> Until then, enjoy a short little happy ending for "An Ode to...…" universe Rodimus. :)


End file.
